


The Morning After

by greenapricot



Series: His Other Half [2]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 05:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30016677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenapricot/pseuds/greenapricot
Summary: There is a thump from upstairs, audible over the sound of frying sausage and potatoes. Jean turns from the stove and raises an eyebrow at Laura, spatula pointed toward the ceiling. Laura sips her coffee, tilts her head, and listens. Another thump, two sets of footsteps, muffled voices, water running briefly in the bathroom, the squeaky hinges of the airing cupboard door.“Someone didn’t make it home last night,” Jean says, stirring the potatoes around in the frying pan.
Relationships: James Hathaway/Robert Lewis, Laura Hobson/Jean Innocent
Series: His Other Half [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2208126
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> This is very much a sequel to His Other Half and will make more sense if you'd read that first. (Though I don't think it will make no sense if you haven't.)

Laura settles in at the kitchen table and wraps her hands around her mug. The sun is shining through the French doors that look out onto the back garden, birds flitting back and forth from the feeder to the garden fence. She closes her eyes, inhales, and takes a deep, fortifying sip of coffee, luxuriating in the warmth of the sun on her face.

She may be a bit old now for the indulgence of getting well and truly sozzled on her birthday, but it is a damn good time on occasion. This occasion in particular. The coffee is perfect, Jean is at the stove preparing breakfast and, the ghost of a headache pressing at her temples aside, all is right with the world. All is peaceful; sunlight and greenery and birdsong filtering in through the window, the delicious smells of a meal being cooked for her by the woman she loves. 

There is a thump from upstairs, audible over the sound of frying sausage and potatoes. Jean turns from the stove and raises an eyebrow at Laura, spatula pointed toward the ceiling. Laura sips her coffee, tilts her head, and listens. Another thump, two sets of footsteps, muffled voices, water running briefly in the bathroom, the squeaky hinges of the airing cupboard door. 

“Someone didn’t make it home last night,” Jean says, stirring the potatoes around in the frying pan. 

Laura grins. “Think they’ll say hello or try to sneak out?” 

“Oh, sneak out.” Jean turns a sausage. “They’ll try to be discrete.”

“Too bad they’re so terrible at it.”

“I don’t know.” Jean looks thoughtful as she gestures with the spatula. “They did manage to hide their relationship from me for a few months at least.”

“Any bets on how long they’ve been together?”

Jean laughs. “No. Fifty quid is enough, thanks.”

“Today is actually my birthday, you know.”

“I do know,” Jean says, brandishing the spatula. “That’s why I got up early on a Sunday to make you breakfast at your house.”

“And I am ever grateful to you,” Laura says. Jean flashes her a warm, teasing smile and turns back to the stove, cracking eggs into the pan.

Laura picks up her coffee and moves to a chair on the opposite side of the table, her back to the sun and the garden, so she’s facing the kitchen door. Barely a minute later, she hears footsteps coming down the stairs followed by the murmur of a muffled argument. Then Robbie and James pass by the open door, clearly very focused on being as quiet as possible and doing about as good a job of it as they had at keeping their relationship secret. 

“Did you put the sheets in the hamper?” Laura calls out.

They both stop mid-stride, turning to look at her wide-eyed. Robbie looks like he’s seriously considering making a run for it. They are much more put-together than the last time she saw them, hair in order and the buttons of James’ shirt done up properly this time, but there’s no disguising the love bites on Robbie’s neck which have grown in number and darkened to a deep purple overnight.

James recovers first, though missing the bravado of last night when she walked in on them in the bathroom. Likely the bravado went with the alcohol. “Um, yes.” He nods his head, fingers twitching at his side. “The sheets. In the hamper. And new sheets on the bed.” 

“Thank you, James. That was very thoughtful.”

“It’s the least we could do when we…” He waves his hand vaguely in the direction of the stairs then looks down at his shoes, the tips of his ears going red. 

“We should get out of your hair,” Robbie says, his cheeks flushed pink. He gives James a gentle push toward the front door.

“Sure you don’t want some coffee?” Laura asks. “It’s the Guatemalan from that new roaster.” Which Laura knows full well is James’ favourite. It’s hers too.

Robbie flashes James a look that says, _no_. James meets Robbie’s eyes and gives him an apologetic shrug. She knew that would get him. 

“That would be lovely,” James says, a little bit of last night’s confidence returning.

Laura gestures toward the counter by the fridge. “It’s in the pot.” 

“Cheers.” James steps through the door into the kitchen, Robbie, who would be perfectly satisfied with instant, following reluctantly behind.

James stops short when he sees Jean at the stove. Robbie nearly bumps into him, his hand going to James’ lower back as if to steady them both.

“Good morning,” Jean says cheerily, switching off the burner. “Breakfast?”

“Ma’am, I—” James says at the same time Robbie blurts out. “You’re still here.” 

“Indeed. And so are you. Although, I have a standing invitation.”

“Oh, we— We should go…” Robbie turns toward the door, his hand sliding around James’ waist to pull him along. 

James doesn’t move. He glances at Robbie over his shoulder, casts a longing look toward the coffee pot, then looks between Jean and Laura. 

“So you’re—” James purses his lips thoughtfully. “Huh.”

Laura can’t help but smile. 

“Some of us are better at discretion than others,” Jean replies. Robbie is looking more and more uncomfortable by the minute. James looks more intrigued than anything. 

“Oh, give them a break.” Laura stands to get the coffee since they both now seem to be rooted to the spot. “They haven’t even had their coffee yet.” To James and Robbie she says, “Sit,” pointing at the chair she just vacated and the one next to it on the garden side of the table. 

They obey, scooting their chairs closer together and glancing from Laura to Jean as they hold one of their wordless conversations, leant in close, shoulders brushing; no different to how they’ve ever sat. Laura is beginning to suspect their relationship may have been going on longer than even she realised. She puts some more bread in the toaster and brings them their coffee. 

“Thank you,” James says, heartfelt. He wraps both hands around the mug and breathes deeply, just as she had earlier, then takes a sip. His shoulders relax a bit.

“Cheers.” Robbie sips his own coffee in a much less dramatic fashion.

Jean portions scrambled eggs and sausage and potatoes onto four plates while Laura starts another pot of coffee and brings over the toast, then sits down next to Jean opposite James and Robbie. 

“Go on, eat,” Jean says, gesturing to the food in front of them. “Before it gets cold.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they both say in unison and pick up their forks. 

To say that the silence is awkward would be an understatement. Robbie and James are carrying on their wordless conversation, presumably about whether or not to mention the elephant that’s standing in the middle of the table, furtive glances passing between them as they eat. Next to Laura, Jean is biting her lip, on the verge of laughter. 

After a few bites of scrambled egg and more coffee, James breaks the silence.

“Happy Birthday,” he says, looking across the table at Laura and very obviously avoiding Jean’s eyes. 

Laura smiles. “Thank you, James.”

“Oh. Your birthday’s today, is it?” Robbie puts down his fork. “We really shouldn’t—”

“Nonsense,” Laura says as she cuts her sausage. “What better gift than the joy of your company.”

Jean lets out a huff of a laugh, then takes a quick bite of toast, not quite stifling it. The tiniest hint of a smile plays at the corner of James’ lips. 

“So, ah— you two are…” Robbie gestures between Laura and Jean with his toast.

“Yes,” Laura says. 

“Good. That’s good.” Robbie nods, smiling at Laura. He looks more than a little relieved as he puts his toast down on his plate and meets her eyes. “I’m glad. I hadn’t— the way we left it between the two of us, I didn’t mean—” He shakes his head. “But then James and I—”

“It’s fine.” Laura reaches across the table to brush her fingers across the back of his hand. Robbie has always been such a sweet man, though rather terrible at navigating the intimacies of emotion. They could have been good together if they hadn’t both been more interested in someone else. “You and I were always meant to be friends.”

Robbie’s smile widens. “Good,” he says again. “I should have—”

“It really is fine.” Laura picks up her coffee and looks over at Jean who is no longer trying to hide her smile as she watches the proceedings. “I’m very happy.”

When Laura looks back across the table, James is gazing at Robbie almost dreamily; a small smile on his lips that telegraphs depths of love and devotion. She’s seen flashes of that smile before, James always trying, but not quite succeeding, in hiding his true feelings. He’s not hiding now. 

“So, James,” Jean says. “How is studying for the OSPRE going?”

James blinks at her, expression shifting from adoration of Robbie to confusion, then solidifying into one of understanding. “Very well, ma’am,” he says in an excellent approximation of someone who hasn’t decided at that very moment to go for promotion. “I’ll be ready for the next round of testing.” 

Robbie gives James a sideways look, eyebrow raised, then glances at Jean and back to James. He smiles and takes a bite of sausage.

“That’s good to hear,” Jean says. “I would hate for anything to come between my two best officers and their ability to work.” She picks up her mug and takes a sip of coffee. “If you’d like help with any of the units, let me know.”

“Oh,” James says, surprised. He was clearly expecting a reprimand, not praise and an offer of help. “Thank you, ma’am. I’m sure Robb— Inspector Lewis will be more than up to the task.” 

“I’m sure Robbie will too,” Jean replies with a smile. 

James goes a bit red. “I didn’t—”

“I know, James,” Jean says reassuringly. “A month isn’t much time to revise, but if anyone can swot up in time it’s you.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Robbie says, his hand straying to James’ where it’s resting on the table between them and giving it a small squeeze. Laura wonders if this is him still trying to be discreet. “We appreciate it.”

“I’m sure you do.” Jean picks up the plate in front of her and offers it to James. “More toast?”

“Thank you,” James says, overly emphatic, taking the toast for the olive branch that it is. He selects a slice and reaches for the butter. 

Jean offers the plate to Robbie next. He takes a slice as well.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says with palpable relief. 

Jean smiles. “You’re welcome, Robbie.”

Robbie smiles back, the tiniest hit of pink on his cheeks. Jean changes the topic of conversation to the travelling exhibit showing at the Ashmolean next week, which James latches onto immediately. Laura gets up to get more coffee. 

When she returns to the table to refill their mugs, Laura catches Robbie gazing at James fondly, as Jean and James discuss which medieval tapestries they’re most looking forward to seeing. Robbie gives Laura a small, grateful smile and murmurs his thanks for the coffee. Laura decides right then that once James has passed the OSPRE and Jean no longer needs to maintain plausible deniability, she’s going to book the four of them a table somewhere nice to celebrate.

_____


End file.
